


Thunderbirds Are Go: ‘Deck The Halls’

by countessofsnark



Series: Christmas Fic [4]
Category: Thunderbirds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-14 02:29:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15378720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/countessofsnark/pseuds/countessofsnark
Summary: Based on a prompt by @wonderavian and inspired by one of @tinglingsquidsense’s head canonsAlan gets stuck climbing a tree. It takes four brothers, a rather confused engineer, an exasperated adopted sister and a very excitable robot to get him down.





	Thunderbirds Are Go: ‘Deck The Halls’

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt by @wonderavian and inspired by one of @tinglingsquidsense’s head canons
> 
> _Alan gets stuck climbing a tree. It takes four brothers, a rather confused engineer, an exasperated adopted sister and a very excitable robot to get him down._

When the question ‘Has anybody seen Alan?’ is followed by ‘Hey, I found this empty bottle of eggnog on the kitchen counter’, the residents of Tracy Island hold their collective breaths. Scott and Virgil shoot each other an accusing ‘I told you to keep an eye on our noodle child’ glance. Gordon shrugs – for once he is not aware of his partner-in-most-crimes’ whereabouts. John, who is reading a newspaper in the lounge pit, raises a ginger eyebrow and ducks back behind the wall of rustling paper. 

The awkward silence is finally interrupted by a sarcastic cough.

‘So are we just going to sit here and point fingers at each other until Grandma gets home to find out her youngest grandson has gone missing?’ Kayo says while getting up and stretching her weary limbs.

‘Where do you suggest we start looking?’ a visibly panicking Scott asks.

‘Le-let’s all stay calm now. I’m sure MAX can help us track him down,’ Brains added, pushing his glasses further up his nose. MAX chirped affirmatively, raising a robotic arm in a cheerful salute.

Before long, MAX locks on to a heat signal near Thunderbird 2’s runway. The search party heads out to the runway only to find Alan stuck in the highest and oldest of the neatly planted palm trees. He is squinting around while clinging to the tree’s broad trunk. A trail of brightly coloured Christmas lights is dangling from the tree in what seems to be a failed attempt to decorate the trees that line the runway – a Tracy Island Christmas staple.

Four worried brothers, an exasperated sister, a confused engineer, and a very excited robot gather at the base of the tree. Alan, meanwhile, does not seem too pleased with the sudden intrusion.

‘Go away, I’m try-trying to put the lights up. I asked you guysh a million times but no one reshponded so I figured I’ll just do it myshelf,’ Alan slurred.

‘Alan, why don’t you get down from there and we’ll take over. I bet I know a faster and more entertaining way to get those lights set up,’ Gordon shouts, hoping that the word ‘entertaining’ will suffice to make Alan turn his back on these tree-climbing antics.

‘Yeah sh-sure, you’re so short you couldn’t even decorate a baby fir,’ Alan cackles.

‘I’m not short, I’m fun-sized!’ Gordon snarls, hands balled up into fists.

‘Alan, we made cookies while you were out here. Based on Lady Penelope’s chocolate and peanut butter recipe. The ones you couldn’t stop eating when we were invited for tea time. Remember those cookies?’ Scott tried, nodding hopefully as Alan’s eyes grew wide. Beside him, Virgil was staring into space, drool starting to drip from a corner of his mouth.

‘And I’ve g-got some confidential gadgets for you to try out, if you like,’ Brains added, patting MAX’s bulbous back. MAX waved both of its robotic arms and produced a series of happy chirps.

After what felt like an eternity, Alan utters a brief ‘Okay’ and begins a wobbly descent. Virgil, who doesn’t trust the way Alan’s long limbs are constantly at risk of getting tangled up, gracefully climbs to meet his brother and scoops him up, putting him over his shoulder like he would a blanket or a bag of flour.

By the time the search party is safely back inside the house, Alan is fast asleep in Virgil’s arms.


End file.
